Anger at the unnecessary injustice, inequality, poverty and deprivation heaped on the many by the greed driven few.
Hatred at the hypocrisy, indifference and greed of the wealthy plundering parasite class and their engineered wars, where they never lift the gun.
Anguish at the suffering of the countless innocent millions mutilated, maimed and slaughtered, young and old, who never desire war and gain nothing from those wars.
Sorrow at those migrants fleeing wars, death and destruction, whose journey is drowning, hatred and concentration camps.
The longer we accept this engineered pattern of plundering, the deeper the pool of blood we wade through, the heavier the burden of complicity will weigh on our shoulders.
The Seeds We Sow.
Because of my ignorance, I sowed the seeds of anguish,
while my self indulgence planted the vine of pain,
my disregard of the future laid sorrow’s foundation.
Suddenly the future slaps me in the face,
while my children eat the food of that anguish
and chew the leaves of that vine,
as the sea of sorrow washes around their feet.
My yesterday shaped their tomorrow
My ignorance laid their path
and now my self indulgence is their burden.
It would appear that,
these failings of the father are burdened on his heirs.
Because of my ignorance, I sowed the seeds of anguish,
while my self indulgence planted the vine of pain,
my disregard of the future laid sorrow’s foundation.
Suddenly the future slaps me in the face,
while my children eat the food of that anguish
and chew the leaves of that vine,
as the sea of sorrow washes around their feet.
My yesterday shaped their tomorrow
My ignorance laid their path
and now my self indulgence is their burden.
It would appear that,
these failings of the father are burdened on his heirs.
We all know that we could distribute the resources of this world in a more humane and fairer manner. Their is enough to see to the needs of all our people, our crime is we leave that distribution to the greedy plundering parasite class. To often those suffering the most, the marginalised, those with the greatest need for our assistance, somehow are hidden from view, unless we take a deeper look around us.
The Invisible.
We live there— yes— there
A little bit above the dead
But quite a bit below the living
Where poverty is a dream
Deprivation a reality
Our daily bread an illusion
We sigh--we weep—
As ruthless poverty
With its cold claws
Tears the heart from our children
We ask—WHY?
Surrounded by opulence
Invisible to arrogant greed
Anger simmers beneath the surface
We seek equality
We will have justice
If blood is the price
So be it.
We live there— yes— there
A little bit above the dead
But quite a bit below the living
Where poverty is a dream
Deprivation a reality
Our daily bread an illusion
We sigh--we weep—
As ruthless poverty
With its cold claws
Tears the heart from our children
We ask—WHY?
Surrounded by opulence
Invisible to arrogant greed
Anger simmers beneath the surface
We seek equality
We will have justice
If blood is the price
So be it.
We have the numbers, we have the power to change this weary and blood stained world to one of humanity, co-operation and justice for all. We have that better world drifting around in our hearts and heads, all we need is the will and solidarity to act now. Of course we can accept their tomorrow.
We Have The Power.
Empty streets,with empty shops,
queues forming at the job centre,
doorway beds and hungry children,
watched over by mean eyed cops,
foodbanks growing by the hour.
City razzle-dazzle just rusty remnants,
shopping malls now empty caverns,
home to starlings, pigeons, magpies,
zero hours, part-time workers live in,
homes where ambition fails to flower.
Shiny politicians peddling illusions,
grin and bear it, there’s pie in the sky,
follow the Messiah, he’ll get you there,
quietly swallow their empty promises,
so they can live in their ivory towers.
This world exists by our acceptance,
blindly following their biased rulebook,
failing to realise that we the people,
builders of the world by sweat and pain,
are the ones who really hold the power.
